Dreams

Thoughts

I- I have to stop this.

Blaise forced himself to look down at his plate and continue eating. But the urge to watch her was too great, so he reluctantly allowed himself to raise his eyes again.

Although he would have never admitted it, the sight of her shiny brown head sang through his blood with sinful pleasure.

He had seen her open his gift to her, and reveled in the surprise on her face. No matter how surprised she is, Blaise had thought grimly, she definitely knows that I sent it! With that thought in mind, he steeled himself mentally and waited for her to look at him. Instead, once she had read his words, she closed the book quickly and resumed eating her breakfast. He was disappointed by her cool reaction, and was only mollified by the knowledge that she had kept the diary's origin hidden. In that way, they both shared a secret from the rest of the school.

Everything about her is a secret, it seems, Blaise frowned to himself as he again turned his eyes back to his plate. She hides everything about herself; hell, I bet Weasley would pay to have the kind of knowledge about her that I have. He lifted his eyes to glare at the back of the redheaded git's head with jealousy. I wish I could sit there with her, smiling and laughing. I don't care if she's pretending to be happy around them; I just wish I was subjected to one of her smiles. He grinned wryly to himself as he finished his eggs. Right, you git, as though you'd have to endure being 'subjected to one of her smiles!'

He chanced another glance at her and was saddened when he saw how lonely she was. Weasley and Potter were lost in their own little world, probably discussing plans for next week's Quidditch game, while the Weasley chit was talking to that ponce with the camera. No one else at the Gryffindor table paid attention to their Head Girl, and Blaise's heart went out to her in pity and compassion. I know all too well how that feels, Hermione, he wanted to tell her.

Blaise's thoughts turned inwards as he continued his breakfast. He had always been quiet and reserved, even with his Housemates, which was an unusual trait for a Slytherin. While Malfoy and his cronies enjoyed bothering others and generally creating havoc, Blaise was more inclined to focus on his studies, get lost in his daydreams, and leave others to their own devices. Hence, he was often overlooked by everyone, but Blaise preferred to be left alone.

Therefore, it had come as a huge surprise for the entire school, including Blaise himself, when he was named Head Boy. In fact, he had been horrified with being thrust in the proverbial limelight, for he would no longer be able to quietly fade in the background. This new responsibility would force him to make decisions about his future and his side in this fight between purebloods and muggleborns. During the summer after his sixth year, Blaise had seriously weighed the pros and cons of each side, and had finally decided that he would not side with Voldemort. Of course, being a pureblood himself, Blaise was not stupid enough to publicly acknowledge this fact. When the time came, he would make his choice known; for now, he would keep his neutrality.

Blaise made another important decision that summer, concerning his role as Head Boy. He knew that students would expect him to be meek and reluctant. Instead, Blaise decided that he would cling to his morals and be unfailing fair with his punishments. Sure enough, when classes resumed in September, many students thought that if they couldn't get anything by their "snooty, do-gooder" Head Girl, they could do as they pleased around that "non-entity" Zabini. Needless to say, they soon learned that they were wrong.

Of course, his fellow Slytherins didn't like his fair punishments at all. It had been years since a Slytherin was made Head Boy, and they expected him to succor them, much like Professor Snape did. Once they realized that Blaise would never play favorites, they shunned him purposefully and tried to make his duties as difficult as possible. Blaise was not surprised to see that his Housemates despised him so much, but he was extremely annoyed by their antics. However, he refused to be intimidated by them, and continued with his responsibilities.

Although he was rejected by all of the houses, Blaise was not bothered initially. After all, he reasoned, it's best that no one gets close enough to me to realize my true opinions on Voldemort. Yet, he began feeling lonely after the first month. One day during classes, he had been struck by the fact that he did not have a single friend at Hogwarts, even after seven years as a student there. When he thought about the future, he realized that he did not want to look back at his time at Hogwarts and discover that he had wasted it by hiding from everyone else.

Blaise then began an earnest search for a friend. Of course, it was impossible for him to find anyone that matches his brains, temperament, and opinions. Furthermore, the other students regarded him with disdain or fear. Thus, when he realized that Hermione Granger was his equal in many ways, Blaise immediately began conversing with her. It had taken time to get her to respond to his overtures of friendship, but the Gryffindor know-it-all finally accepted him as an acquaintance. In her companionship, he had found acceptance and respect, something that even his parents hadn't deigned to give him. As October passed, Blaise grew attracted to the intricacies of her mind; gradually, her alluring physical beauty drew him in as well. Yes, it's official, Blaise snorted softly as he took a swig of pumpkin juice. I completely fancy Hermione Granger.

"Oi! Zabini!" a loud voice called out next to Blaise's ear, disrupting his train of thought.

He winced as his ears reverberated in response, and turned to face the unwelcome intruder. Blaise barely hid his surprise with a cool mask when he found himself staring at Draco Malfoy. "Yes?" he asked imperiously.

Draco frowned at him thoughtfully, then smirked. "Who is she, then?"

"What?" Blaise nearly screeched, unsettled by the abrupt question and the blonde boy's intuition.

"Oh, come off it," Draco replied coolly as he sat down in the seat next to Blaise. "I know that look. Who's the bird?"

"She's not a bird," Blaise muttered to himself indignantly. When he realized that he had said that out loud, his face burned.

Draco snorted in contempt, then began scanning the other house tables critically. "So, which house is she in? I tried to get your attention for the past five minutes, but you've been staring at-"

Blaise flushed again with embarrassment, and stiffly stood up. "I haven't been staring at anyone," he stated in a cool, clipped tone. "Now, if you'll excuse me..." With that, Blaise picked up his books and stalked out of the Great Hall.

He didn't dare look at the Gryffindor table in passing, because he knew that Malfoy was watching him carefully. His heart wrenched at the thought of not seeing her, but he pushed that out of his mind as he headed to his first class.

~*~

Hermione sat in the library, nervously tapping her quill against the parchment before her. Surprisingly, her thoughts weren't focused on the Transfiguration essay that she was supposed to be writing. Instead, she was mulling over the tempting gift that she had received that morning. The book and quill had been really beautiful, but she had spent all day in her classes wondering what Zabini was playing at. Is it an enchanted diary, like what Lucius Malfoy gave Ginny? She glared at the offending book, which was sitting on the table before her. I wouldn't put it past a Slytherin to try something like that again. It worked so well the first time, didn't it?

She picked up the book and placed it in front of her. She began testing it with all of the revealing spells she knew, but none of them worked. She then searched the library for books with more spells, and continued testing the diary. She spent the better part of two hours occupied with the task, but made no headway with her efforts.

Perhaps it isn't enchanted, Hermione finally conceded. She raked her hand through her hair, still confused about the gesture behind the gift. Well, maybe he wants to lull me into a false sense of security. She thought about that for a moment, and decided that that was the case. He's hoping that, once I write in it, he can steal it away and find out more about me. She nearly rubbed her hands together with glee, thinking that she had finally hit the reason for the gift. Once he's found enough rubbish about me, she continued enthusiastically, he'll use the information against me, in true Slytherin fashion!

After Hermione had calmed down from her excitement, she resumed tapping her quill against the desk. Well, I can't let him find out that I know about his scheme, she reasoned. That means that I do have to write something in this book. She sighed longing as she lightly ran her fingers along the book's spine. What I wouldn't give to actually use this book for myself...

She frowned as she stopped herself from sinking into self-pity. But what should I write about? she mused.

She thought for a bit, then suddenly sat up straight and grinned secretly. She opened the book to the first page, grabbed the phoenix feather quill, and began to write.

17 November, 1998

Today, I received this beautiful diary and a wonderful phoenix feather quill from an anonymous person. I'd love to know who was thoughtful enough to give them to me. I supposed I'll never know, because they have yet to claim responsibility for it. I don't have the energy to search for them either, because I've been dying to use this diary.

You see, I've always felt that the Wizarding world was far too removed from the Muggle world. Wizards and witches of this century are completely clueless about the Muggle lifestyle. I am a Muggleborn, and I feel that I am in a prime position to educate them on the finer points of being a Muggle. However, I have been forgetting many things about Muggles since I was accepted to Hogwarts. Thus, I feel it is my duty to record all of the Muggle customs and traditions that I remember from my childhood. This diary will serve that purpose admirably.

Hermione smirked as she ended the sentence with a flourish. That should be enough to ruffle any Slytherin's feathers. She quickly re-inked her quill and continued writing for the rest of the afternoon. As dark clouds outside slowly hid the wintry sun, the last ray of light from the windows illuminated her determined face for a moment, then disappeared.